


Snow and Ashes

by thnderchld



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Gay Crises, Light Angst, M/M, Mild Smut, No food for 2 weeks, Sharing Body Heat, Snowed In, a bit of, impending doom, keith: lance’s sexual awakening, lance might be bi and hes kind of fucked up about it, trans lance whaaaat, trapped in a cabin
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-07
Updated: 2016-07-07
Packaged: 2018-07-22 03:14:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,441
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7417402
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thnderchld/pseuds/thnderchld
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Lance and Keith are caught in a blizzard on an alien planet, they are forced to remain in a single cabin until the ships can land. However, their food supply is quickly drained, and they quickly find themselves in dangers of the mental and physical kind. keith/lance.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Snow and Ashes

**Author's Note:**

> trigger warning for starvation, internalised homo/biphobia and a bit of internalised transphobia

_Day 1_

_\---_

“When I said ‘I’d really appreciate a vacation’ I was _not_ thinking of this,” Lance grumbled, kicking off the snow that had stuck itself into his snowboots. The wind whistled outside, creating a heavy sheet of white for as far as the eye could see.

His companion, a shorter boy by the name of Keith, grunted as he took off his helmet. “We’re going to be here for a while until Allura is able to land. The blizzard is messing with the signals.”

A sigh ran through Lance’s whole body as he looked around at the hut. It was kind of like the stereotypical summer cabin, only it was winter and all the water was frozen and there was no fish. There had been no trees anywhere, but here there was a structure made of wood. “I don’t even care if this building is spying on us,” he grumbled and slumped against the wall. He reached up and knocked against the wood. “Hey Zarkon, how you holding up?”

Keith smothered a small smile and kicked Lance’s knee with the tip of his foot. Lance pulled back at once, staring at Keith in horror. “There was snow on that! Snow is cold!” Lance scoffed and got to his feet, walking over to what appeared to be a cupboard.

He paused as a flurry of snow battered itself against the window. Opening the cupboard he found a small stash of plausibly edible food, but decided to eat it tomorrow. Then he curled up on the floor and before too long he was snoring.

_Day 2_

_\---_

“Are my feet or hands blue?” Lance was shuddering, his hands trembling where he’d pushed them on Keith. Keith was more sensibly arranged, pressed against the wall where he liked to think it was warmer.

Lance’s skin was frighteningly cold, and slightly damp. Somewhere, Keith noted the way his hand was small, and the skin soft. It was only slightly calloused, the fingers long and poetic. _Piano fingers_ , he noted.

Keith shook his head. “No. They’re black and they’re going to fall off.”

Lance squeaked and his eyes widened, glancing between his hand and Keith’s face. Keith had never noticed it before, how light they were. For a moment Lance’s eyebrows were pulled taut, his shoulders trembling. Then he yanked his hand back. He pressed his other set of fingers against the knuckles, bending and splaying them.

“That was a joke, Lance.”

“Oh. Right.” Lance dropped his hand, and pressed his lips tight.

_Day 3_

_\---_

Lance pressed the balls of his hands into his temples. He was staring at the ground in a way that would make Keith feel nervous for his mind if Lance hadn’t just been yelling for perfectly reasonable reasons.

Lance grabbed his helmet and his face screwed tight. “Princess, please. Get someone the fuck down here- I hate Keith. I _actually_ hate him please oh my fucking god- I swear to _god,_ if you’re not here in-”

Keith smirked. “Don’t you think you might watch your tongue?”

“Keith, I’ve been trapped with _you_ for a _week_. I think the princess will understand and anyway, I’m hanging up.”

He dropped it again and slumped against the wall. His face regained composure and he pulled his helmet closer. “From now on, that’s your side of the room.”

“You’re such a child-”

“I _am_ a child,” Lance exclaimed, “And so are you!”

Keith paused, his face frozen. And then a quiet, “No you’re not.”

Lance made a noncommittal grunt and stared at the window, the layer of white making the rest of the world seem non-existent. Maybe the world was full of ghosts. Maybe they were ghosts, lost and aimless inside a white abyss. Or maybe Keith was going crazy. Besides, if he was a ghost, why would he be with _Lance_?

Finally Lance glared over at him. “Hey, I think the nights are getting colder.”

Keith smirked. “No shit, princess.”

He narrowly missed a thrown snowboot.

“I’m serious, Keith. For once. I don’t…” He glanced away. “How ironic would it be if we starved to death before Galra could fight us? How-”

Keith made a loud groan and he dropped to the floor beside Lance. “We’re not going to die, Lance.”

Lance frowned, unsatisfied. “But how do you know that? None of us know anything anymore. Can I remind you that until we were here we were in a _spaceship castle_?”

Then Lance stood up and walked to the other side of the room, crumpling up and falling asleep around himself. Or trying. Finally he glanced up and, with hesitation written across his brow, beckoned him over. Keith rolled his eyes and followed. “Nice exercise you’re-”

Lance grabbed his hand and yanked him to the ground, frowning into the distance. Then, slowly, he wrapped his arms around Keith, trying to look everywhere but the other man. Then his cheek, pressed gently against Keith’s. A harsh whisper, “I may hate you, but I am really cold. Or am I the only one willing to sacrifice their dignity?”

Keith opened his mouth to laugh, but shut it again. “No. You’re not,” he said at last.

Squeezing his eyes shut, Lance let Keith wrap his arms around his waist. Like that they slept.

-

“Keith? Hey. Keith.” Keith blinked awake, but the night was still blazing white. Lance was staring at him with an unusually serious line to his mouth. He looked restless, however.

“Mmmm?”

“I don’t.” Lance licked his lips, a small blush running through his cheeks. “Hate you, that is.” He reached up and patted Keith’s soft hair with his gentle hands. Keith didn’t know why he was noticing it, or why it was so important. Well, it wasn’t.

“Oh,” he whispered, “Okay.”

__

_Day 4_

\---

Well, shit. They’d officially run out of food, and both of them were officially starving. Keith wondered how much weight the two of them had lost, their lions coated with snow in a basement outside. Or, Keith hoped it was a basement.

It didn’t really matter, now. The two of them listened as Lance’s stomach grumbled. At some point his fragile masculinity had left him, and his head was now resting in Keith’s lap, an occasional hungry whine leaving his lips.

“How many years have we been here? We can’t even see the sun,” Lance pined, and Keith could feel his cold, cold breath spread over his torso. Then Lance got to his knees and made his way over to the cupboard. A shout of triumph erupted from his body. “Woohoo! In your _face_!”

Lance palmed something and came over towards Keith. “It’s, like, a sugar cube!”

“Sure it’s not rat poison?”

Lance shrugged and licked it. “No, it’s sugar.”

“I deserve it,” Keith said, holding out his hand. “I’ve been cuddling you for days!”

“ _That was mutual._ ”

Keith grabbed for the sugar just as Lance plopped it onto his tongue. Before he was aware of his own actions, Keith had slammed his mouth into Lance’s; bruisingly hard and not very good at all. His tongue parted Lance’s lips and it went unprotested.

Lance tasted like sugar, which wasn’t something Keith had ever thought about. In fact, he’d never thought about what Lance tasted at all.

Lance’s hands came to cup Keith’s jaw and he was leaning, teetering, and then crashing into the floor. He yelped as he hit the ground and when Keith looked up he was staring off into space, his breathing shaky. Keith could see him trembling.

“You okay?” Keith asked, reaching out to take Lance’s hand, but the other boy pulled away with a swiftness Keith hadn’t known Lance possessed. “What’s wrong?”

“I just _kissed_ a _guy,_ ” Lance whispered, and his voice wavered, grated at something hard and deep that Keith had never seen before.

Keith paused. As far as he knew, Lance had never been homophobic- but who knew. “So?” he said, and Lance covered his face with his hands.

Lance shrugged and sat up. He looked tired. Was he tired often? Did he ever have trouble sleeping? This line of thought disturbed Keith, so he thought no more of it. “It doesn’t matter, just- I’m straight, right? I had a sexuality crisis in, what, ninth grade, and I just thought that was it. I’m _straight_.”

Keith sighed and pulled himself over to Lance. He’d been there, when he was younger. Albeit not for very long, but it had happened. Lance lifted his head slightly, and he looked different than Keith had ever known him. Had he ever known him?

“I’m the one who kissed you, not-”

“First of all, don’t give me bullshit. Second of all, _don’t give me bullshit in times of crisis._ I kissed you back and I fucking liked it and I- It’s not because you were pretty because you’re definitely not pretty so there’s no way I mistook you for a girl.”

Keith leaned forward and pressed his nose to the back of Lance’s neck. “Do you want to forget it ever happened?” It sounded like bullshit even to him, like he was talking to a little kid, but Lance had called himself a child a few minutes ago, so who knew.

Lance turned over and his face was twisted in a grimace. “Who do you think I am, Keith? Do you think I’m an idiot? Tell me something about the guy you just kissed. Anything.”

Keith came away blank. “Do you know anything about _me_?”  


“I know that you passed every single one of your classes. Got an A in piloting. I know that stuff because you were, like, legendary at the Garrison. I don’t know anything about your life, though. The difference is that I don’t pretend I do.”

Keith felt a strike of pain in his chest. “I’m sorry.”

Lance sighed, “It’s fine. But I- I can’t just forget about things, anymore. Never again.” And like that he leaned forward and pressed his lips to Keith’s; gentle and trembling. Soft. “It’s not gay if it’s in space, right?”

__

_Day 5_

\---

“Soon I’m gonna have to resort to eating _you,_ ” Lance groaned, focusing on drinking the icy water in his bottle. “I only have so many crumbs stashed in Blue.”

Keith snorted but didn’t reply. For a moment he was silent, before he finally burst into laughter. When he finally opened his eyes he saw Lance, who was suddenly still, his eyes wide and his lips slightly parted. The aftershocks of his laughter wore off and he slipped back to his normal expression. “What’re you looking at?”

“Nothing,” Lance said suddenly, and for a moment he was distant, his eyebrows taut. A faint darkness tinged his cheeks. “I’m so hungry, Keith.”

Keith reached over and this time Lance let him take his hand. Lance closed his eyes and Keith watched as his frame hunched. “Yeah. Me too.”

And then, quickly, Lance turned around kissed Keith in much the same way he had done before. His muscles, or what was left of them, were tight with stress. Every inch of him was a wordless speech. Lance was a _conversation._ When Keith’s eyes fluttered for a moment he saw Lance’s eyes squeezed tight with those creases at the edges, as if he were in pain. Keith closed his eyes again.

Keith’s hand slid up to Lance’s hair, no longer as shiny as it had been before. What was _happening_ to him? What had been happening for so long beneath the surface? Fuck, this kid must have a lot of internalised problems.

Lance’s fingers wrapped around the hem of his own t-shirt, so unprepared for the cold, and slid it off. To Keith’s dismay the body beneath it was toned and golden, although it had faded in the absence of sunlight.

“Didn’t think I’d look like this?” Lance whispered, his voice grating over the edges of his teeth. “I was a fighter pilot at the Garrison.”

“You were a cargo pilot,” Keith said, resting his forehead against Lance’s.

Lance snorted, as if he couldn’t believe Keith at all. “I’ve been set on piloting since I was a kid. You didn’t think I’d prepare?”

“No, actually.”

And then Lance laughed, a bitter and broken thing. “I don’t know what this snow is doing to me. It’s- I’m not supposed to be like this.” For a moment the line of his mouth twisted, but then it was back to normal. He was doing that a lot. “Can we just get this over with and fuck?”

A shock ran through Keith’s abdomen and he gulped. “What happened to you repressing your sexuality?”

“I’m not _repressing_ anything,” Lance said. “I’m straight. I am. I’m just…a little confused, by all this. You know how it is.”

Keith felt a pang of sympathy and he nodded. “Yeah. I know how it is.”

“Also I haven’t seen a human girl in months so I’m probably just…homesick.”

At that Keith shut him up, pushing his tongue into Lance’s mouth. Lance was clearly inexperienced, but not _bad._ The other boy’s hand skimmed the skin beneath his shirt. His hands were cold, but Keith shivered for other reasons. He reached up and ran a finger over Lance’s chest. “Maybe you’re bi,” he muttered, “Or something like that.”

Lance just kissed him, as if once he got this over with everything would go back to normal. His breathing was harsh and his hands no longer gentle. They slid gently down over Keith’s torso to slip beneath his pants and into his jocks. Keith found himself pressing into Lance’s touch. He never thought that Lance would have any tact, to be honest. But being trapped in a cabin with Lance is a lot of things and unexpected is one of them.

“Aren’t you…cold?” Keith muttered- although all he could focus on was the warming touch and the tight-lipped smile of the boy above him- and Lance shivered in answer. Following the snail line of hair, Lance’s hand came to cup his cock and Keith jolted.

Lance froze but didn’t stop, instead sliding his palm along the hard length. A soft groan built in Keith’s chest, and he tilted his head back. He felt a cold hand clamp over his mouth. “Don’t make noise.” _Don’t make it real._

__

Keith snorted. “Then why are you touching my dick?”

“Do you want me to stop?” Lance’s voice sounded half-way between sarcastic and concerned. After a moment, Keith shook his head. Then Lance repeated the previous motion, his hand now pleasantly, _very pleasantly,_ warm. He squeezed slightly and Keith bucked his hips upwards. His heartbeat swooped in his chest.

Lance lowered his head to the crook of Keith’s neck and he pumped his fist, his grip tight and secure around Keith.

Fuck. He was _good_ at this, Keith noted at the back of his mind, all the sound building inside his chest, his head falling backwards. With one desperate hand he shoved his pants down as he came, Lance’s mouth smothering his yell.

He rode out the aftershocks on his own, and Lance stood silent and solemn above him. When he finally opened his eyes, he glanced down to see Lance’s hands folded over his lap. Keith raised an eyebrow.

“No,” Lance grit.

“Okay,” Keith said, pulling himself closer. “Why are you in such a knot about this, anyway? Don’t you have a mother down there who loves you? Don’t you know that everyone’s going to be okay about this?”

Lance nodded, and leaned into Keith despite himself. “Yeah. I know. But it’s just- I don’t even know myself. And does this…mean that everyone was right about me? As a kid, I mean?”

“You got teased? I didn’t really pick you out as the type- I’m sorry,” Keith said as Lance cut him a glare.

“It’s fine. And- not really. I mean, I _did,_ but it’s- it’s different than that.”

Keith watched as Lance pressed his fingers to the tanned skin of his chest. Two scars ran beneath each nipple. “Oh,” he whispered, “oh, well,” he blushed, wanting to do something to help, but he was unable. “It’s- that’s okay.”

“I don’t know why I’m not as brave as anyone else. Why I’m not brave right now. I wish I was.”

Keith didn’t respond, just passed Lance his shirt, and he slipped it on before allowing Keith to curl around him.

_Day 7_

_\---_

__

A strangely good humour had taken over Lance in the night, and Keith wasn’t sure what to make of it. In the morning light he was up and about, banging on each of the walls as if he could make something edible fall out. Keith was achingly aware of an absence in his stomach, something completely unconquerable.

“And then my mama told me that her _sister_ had used her prom dress money to take an airplane to _England_. But it was really awkward because back then Britain was going through a really weird time with the EU and-”

“Lance.” Keith sighed, pressing his hand to his forehead. “There’s no food left. Get over it.”

Lance ignored him, continuing to ramble about his aunt’s escapades. Finally he reached into a hole and pulled out a piece of fruit. An old, wrinkled fruit, but still edible. Lance shouted in triumph. “You doubted me, mullethead!”

“Don’t call me that!”

“I’ll call you what I want, _babe_.”

“I can’t believe I let _you_ touch my junk.”

Lance hesitated for a moment, but went back to normal. “It’s not gay if it’s in space. But then again, earth is space. Does that mean it’s gay everywhere? Oh well, I can mess around a bit- not that I have anyone to mess around _with._ Am I still a virgin if I gave you a handjob?”

“You were a virgin?”

“Well, yeah.” A blush stained Lance’s cheeks. “Am? Who knows. It’s not gay while we’re in a cabin on a frozen planet waiting for our friends to remember we exist.” Lance was looking at the apple with no obvious intent to share. “Maybe I’m straight, maybe I’m bisexual, who cares! I’ll be dead soon anyway!”

A sudden, painful groan came from Keith’s stomach and Lance jumped. A sudden melancholy overtook his face and he handed the fruit to Keith. Their hands touched for a moment, a blurring of heat, and Keith pulled it closer. He stared it for a moment, as if he’d discovered gold. The soft green skin, and beneath it softer white flesh.

He glanced up at Lance. “Hey, we should split it.” He took out a pocketknife and prepared to slice it, but Lance shook his head. “What? I thought we were ‘ _dying’_ out here, as you so clearly pointed out!”  


Lance shrugged. “Yeah, it’s true. But if you eat it, then I can die and you can eat my body and last for a lot longer!” There was no sadness, just a firm composure. An uncharacteristically calm smile spread across his lips. “Don’t worry, my buddy, my first-handjobee. I’ve got it all planned out. Maybe I will die a virgin or maybe not, but who cares. All I want is,” he halted, but continued, “ I just want someone tell my mama that I love her for me. Her name is Maria Rodriguez, and she lives at 43 Alexander Street, New York City. When you go back, tell her that I found some handsome young alien and that I was in love for a little bit before I died in a heroic battle for their honour.” His accent was painfully strong, and Keith winced.

“You’re not _actually_ going to die, Lance. And besides, what handsome alien! You’ve got me right here!”

Lance snorted and flicked him in the temple. “My love, there is no _way_ you are human. Fully, anyway.” He leaned over and gave a quick kiss to Keith’s pale forehead before he was away again, bounding over to the end of the room. “God damn it, my fucking _head_ ,” he muttered, and Keith didn’t know whether or not he was actually trying to be quiet.

Keith glanced down at the fruit in his hand. “You’re not going to die,” he repeated, his voice trembling beside itself.

Lance turned around, his eyes wide. “Are you going to _cry_?” Lance said, and a smile flickered at the edge of his mouth. “Ah, the mysterious, elusive _diablo_ has feelings. Maybe the incubus that has been feeding on Lance’s life force is coming to regret his decision!”

Lance strode over and settled himself in Keith’s lap. Like this, he was more permanent. Heavy and present, death seemed a far way off. He was happy, which was good. But it still wasn’t enough to distract from his words.

“Lance, shut the fuck up.”

“No.”

“Fuck you.”

“Already have, but thanks for the offer.” Lance draped his arms over Keith’s shoulders. “Come on, don’t you think you’ll be glad just a little bit that I’m gone? Then you can find another, more quiet, less annoying blue pilot! He’ll never be as good as Lance, but-”

“ _Shut up_.” Keith was the one in pain, now. He pulled himself back, a sudden shudder running through his body. “Lance, stop talking like this. Like that. You’re not going to-”

“I’m just desensitising you. Sheesh.” Lance tipped his nose up, before laughing and pressing his nose into Keith’s cheek. “Don’t be so uptight all the time.”

Keith closed his eyes and wrapped his arms around Lance so suddenly it took them both by surprise. “If we do make it through this, neither of us says anything to anyone, okay?”

“ _If_ ,” Lance said, “There. You’re getting it.”

_Day 13_

_\---_

Lance wasn’t waking up. He was breathing, but he was in the depths of a dream from which there was no waking. Keith remembered what he’d said about cannibalism, and immediately felt a pang of self-loathing. God, he _hated_ this.

“Lance. Lance, for _fuck’s sake_ , wake up,” he whispered, gritting his teeth. His own head was starting to ache. No, not ache- it was a migraine, a splitting one that made him feel like his skull was cracked open like a broken cup. “I do _not_ want to die with you.”

“Die for me, then,” Lance whispered through his sleeping state. “Die for me, and be my hero.” Then he rolled over.

Keith was starting to panic. A sheen of sweat was coating Lance’s forehead, his skin pulled tight over his skull. Shadows lingered in his cheeks, but puffs of white air spilled from between his lips. He mentioned his mother, somewhere in that dream world.

Keith got to his feet and wandered over to the window. Then he grabbed his helmet. After a week of ‘no’s’ he was suddenly desperately aware of Allura’s absence. “Allura, you _have_ to get down here.”

Radio silence.

A moment of pain spread through his chest as he stared back at the sleeping (or unconscious, his brain reminded him) Lance. He looked young like this, one arm tucked beneath his head and his legs tucked against his chest. He looked _so cold_. The cold had worked its way along his cheeks, into the joints of his fingers. Keith wasn’t sure, but he thought he saw ice on Lance’s eyelashes.

Finally he stormed over and slapped Lance across his freezing cold cheeks. “Wake. Up.”

Lance’s eyes lulled open and he grinned. “Hey. At least I didn’t die a virgin, right?”

“Shut the _fuck up_ ,” Keith shouted, “Why can’t you ever shut up! You go on at me about it all the time, but here you go being such a fucking- a fucking _hypocrite._ ”

Lance pouted. “I thought we were making progress, mulletboy! _Babe._ ” He tugged on Keith’s collar and kissed him with a mouth that tasted like snow and ash. Keith grimaced and pulled away.

“Because there’s no progress to make!” Keith turned his head and glared at the helmet on the floor. It was Lance’s, blue amidst a sea of white. He never wanted to see white again. He had the sudden urge to kick it, and he did. He turned his body and let the force of his foot send the helmet spinning over the floor until it collided with the opposite wall. He growled.

“Woah, chill,” Lance grinned. “If I’m not dyin’, why’re you so fussed, huh?” His grin showed his teeth. Keith kind of wanted to punch it. “You in love with me or somethin’?”

_No. But I think I could be. Maybe if we’d stayed on Earth._

__

For a moment he entertained the thought of a world without Voltron. He pictured himself, and Lance, and their petty rivalry. Maybe it would have taken another year before Lance had his ‘soul crushing discovery’. Maybe he would have become one of those pitiful married guys that- no, that was _not_ Lance.

Maybe Lance would have fallen in love with him. Maybe he would have taken him to meet Maria Rodriguez, and they’d sleep in the same bed in Lance’s childhood home with their legs tangled around each other and their bellies achingly full.

“I think I kind of hate you,” Keith said, and it was the truth.

“Same here.”

The thoughts slipped back into his head, of Lance laughing. Maybe his real laughs looked different to the ones he showed the squad.

Maybe Keith would never have known Lance at all.

Lance grinned. “You’re kinda cute when you’re worried.”

“Fuck you.”

Lance rolled his eyes. “Thanks, Mr Sexual Awakening.” He reached out and pulled himself to his feet. “I wonder how long I’ve had a crush on you without knowing.”

A sudden crackle ran through Keith’s helmet and the two of them jumped, Lance emitting a high-pitched squeal. It was Allura’s voice, strong and soft all at once. Then Lance froze. Following his gaze, Keith almost gasped. The snow had settled, and the blizzard was now replaced with a cornflower-blue sky. And there was the sun, a blue giant, melting it all away. Lance grinned.

“Hey, Princess!” he shouted into one of the helmets. “You’re in the clear!”

_After_

_\---_

After at least a dozen bowls of replenishing goop, good for revitalising vitals, the others finally managed to get a word out of the two boys. Hunk stood with a bowl of his own green jello-stuff. “What did you two _do_ in there?”

A blush sprung to Keith’s cheeks, but he hid it behind a hand. He could feel Lance’s gaze on him, and then Lance draped a characteristically invasive hand over his shoulder. Lance’s grin was wide enough to dazzle stars, and Keith thought that perhaps this one was real.

“I guess you could say we bonded.”


End file.
